


Above Justice

by Dannidorina



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (superhero AU but no powers), Like... really slow, M/M, Slow Burn, Some gorey and violent scenes, Vigilante AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dannidorina/pseuds/Dannidorina
Summary: Jesse McCree just wants to do his job right, which is keeping citizens safe and happy. Except, it's harder nowadays with Vigilantes claiming cities as their own, putting more lives in danger with their "chivalrous" acts. McCree sees this in Metropolis's vigilante, Sparrow: a fast-paced, green armor cladded vigilante with a need for the dramatic. However, as the world spirals out of control, and Sparrow is put out of commission by a new and destructive force, McCree realizes the need for hope in a time only full of darkness. He finds it himself in the eyes of a kidnapper.





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I'm back after being MIA for who knows how long at this point, jesus, with a big bang piece! I have been working on this piece for a long time, and It has gone through a LOT of changes and mishaps (at one point, the whole story was lost to a file corruption. Whoopsie!). But here it is, in the flesh! I will be posting this all completely throughout the day, so subscribe and keep a look out as the story grows. I'm excited to have this all up for y'all! And watch out for another fic coming later with my art in it :D (its such a good fic holy hell).
> 
> Some thank you's I want to express before we delve into this, I would like to give my biggest thank you to Dee, the individual who planned the entire big bang from the very beginning. She was extremely patient with us, helping whenever she could, and even helped me when I honestly felt like quitting (file. corruptions. suck). It takes a lot of gusto and a lot of willpower to host one of these things, and she was great :) Thank you Dee, from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> I also want to thank my amazing accompanying artist Rere (@rerenah on tumblr)! When I got them assigned to my piece, I was so. friggen. excited. Their art is amazing and I was so flabbergasted when she showed me the piece, I was legit on the verge of tears. It's still currently my I-phone background, I love it so much. Thank you, Rere!
> 
> And without further ado, here is the story that caused me to constantly email Microsoft in a battle of wits. (Also my baby, this story is absolutely my baby too)

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160435208@N03/39157883290/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to the AMAZING art goes to @rerenah on tumblr! Go send them some love!!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Lights were flashing in every direction and were disorienting him slowly. As he reached out to swat the cameras away, more came to the scene. ‘Nothing to see here’ he would shout, but they wouldn’t listen. Who could blame them? There was always something to see. However this was different, this was worse. The cameras flocked like birds surrounding him, and he couldn’t make out the faces of reporters or ses. There were no towering buildings surrounding them, and there were no flashing police cars; there were only cameras. 

Jesse became impatient, flailing at them effortlessly, trying to make them go away so he could deal with the issue, but they persisted. Suddenly, the floor jutted up from underneath him, and he fell onto his back. The cameras fell down onto him, cluttering his face and eyes, surveying every part of his body.

He tried to scream, but no noise came. Jesse’s body would not obey him. He felt something cool at his leg slowly dragging upward, leaving a crisp, recognizable noise behind it. A piece of chalk crept effortlessly around him as Jesse was glued to the floor. It was tracing his outline on the invisible ground. The cameras flashed excitedly as the chalk finished, and once the cool sensation left him, he felt a flash of searing hot pain in his arm. He screamed silently as he felt his arm burn in an invisible fire, charring and blackening. As tears pricked from his eyes and he felt like he was going to pass out, the shape of a mask flashed in his eyelids. White like bone, curious like an owl.

* * *

 

Jesse woke up in a cold sweat, the urgency of a scream on his lips and the feeling of panic in his chest. He quickly surveyed the scene, and was calmed to find himself in his apartment. 

“Fuckin’ nightmares,” He huffed, and reached over to his left arm. He rubbed the stump, massaging the worn tissue softly. He pulled himself out of bed, the alarm clock mockingly showing ‘4:57 am’, and started to groom himself. He pulled the knots out of his hair with a comb, brushed his teeth lazily, and hooked his prosthetic on. As he took a final few stretches in the bathroom, he heard his phone’s alarm go off. He walked back into his bedroom, grabbing his cell off the the bedside table. He hushed it and threw it back on the bed, where it thumped into a small lump in the blankets.

“Oh shit,” Jesse mumbled as the lump started to move, “Did I hit ya there, Blossom?” A small dog popped her head out from underneath the cushion, yawning. Jesse pet her slowly, helping her wake up and rubbing the spot he accidentally hit.

“Sorry pumpkin, I’ll be sure to give ya a treat when I get home later.” he cooed. He quickly changed into the clothes he laid out the night former, crisp and clean from the dryers. He grabbed his trusty hat and hollister, slipped on his belt, and walked into the kitchen.

Jesse poured Blossom a bowl of food and laid it down where she could reach, then grabbed himself a pack of pop tarts. He was about to throw them in the toaster when he noticed the time.

“Well shit,” He groaned, stuffing the uncooked pop tarts into a plastic baggie and rushing out the door. He sped down the stairs of his apartment building, practically throwing himself down to the first floor. When he landed softly on the lobby’s plush red carpet, he saw the police cruiser waiting outside.

“Thank you Fareeha!” He said sing-songingly as he strutted up to the car. Officer Fareeha Amari was waiting in the front seat, tapping her fingers on the driving wheel. Jesse threw himself into the passenger seat and closed the door with a happy sigh.

“Good to see you again detective, feeling any better?”

“So much better Amari, you wouldn’t believe the pain of an 103 degree fever. I felt like I was dying slower than a cow in the middle of July.”

“Detective, I swear you get stranger and stranger everyday,” Fareeha chuckled as she pulled away from the curb. Although it was early in the morning, cars began to fill the streets of Metropolis. As they drove to the station, Jesse was amazed to see the city covered in a sea of green. Posters were strewn everywhere from bus stops to billboards praising the “city savior”, Sparrow.

Jesse sighed, “Why do they have to make such a big spectacle? And someone is gonna have to clean up all that paper sooner or later.”

“Relax Jesse,” Fareeha chimed, “It’s a celebration! You should be happy, another year of Sparrow is another year without crime.”

“Now you an’ me both know that ain’t true,” Jesse turned seriously to the cop, “We both know he’s more of a nuisance than a savior, just like all them vigilantes.”

Fareeha’s smile faded, “Well, I mean, sure… but we wouldn’t stand a chance against the people they fight. Like what about Doomfist all those years ago? If it wasn’t for the Ape, and Tracer, and even Soldier 76, he’d still be ravaging Moorbrooke.”

“We dealt with ‘em before, we can deal with ‘em now.” Jesse replied coolly.

“Just, lighten up for today, alright?” Fareeha sighed, nudging her pseudo-partner, “My mom wants us all at the ceremony today happy and smiling.”

Jesse almost slammed his head into the dashboard, “Aww fuck, the ceremony. Forgot that was today.” Fareeha laughed as she pulled into the station’s parking lot. She parked the cruiser and the duo hopped out onto the concrete. The station was already bustling, everyone was pulling their weight getting ready for the ceremony.

The ceremony, a five hour exhibition of the city’s saviour: Sparrow. No one knew who he was, but not many people cared. All they knew was that he was a vigilante with good intentions and a knack for fighting. However, for those who did care, he was an absolute enigma. Some argued he had to be a robot, since he moved too quickly and softly to be a real person. Others said he couldn’t be, since he had the heart of a man, and was unpredictable like the human mind. 

“Y’see I don’t think either ideas are right,” Fareeha explained to Jesse one afternoon, “He has all the capabilities that a robot that was incredibly light would have, yet he has a consciousness that only a human could have. Maybe his power has to do with his weight, or he has enhancements or something, but a robot could never be as compassionate as he is.”

Jesse had an eerie feeling as if that exact sentiment caused a robot rebellion in the near future. Regardless, he thought all of the ideas were insane. He didn’t care if Ninja was man or machine, but rather Jesse didn’t want to hear or see him at all.

“Why should a man in a mask, with no place upholding the law in the first place, be allowed to prance around willy-nilly doing all of our work?” He once commented to the chief of police, Ana Amari, “and do y’see the chaos he’s wrecking? He causes so much property damage battle after battle, we become the janitorial staff to his escapades!” 

“I understand your concern Jesse, but…” The chief rose from her desk, “We just don’t have the power to stop a villain, and he does. One man was able to take down a vigilante that three battalions fell victim to. You must agree, that is impressive.”

It wasn’t to Jesse, it was insane. It was an insane amount of power to give one man, and it was insane to trust one man with it. He had seen with his own eyes the destruction that vigilantes could cause when they dipped into their greed.

“Jesse?” McCree snapped back to reality when Fareeha lightly tapped him on the shoulder, “You awake?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” He huffed, “This whole ceremony thing has just got me thinkin’...” 

“You’re a strange man, McCree. Better get to the top dog’s office before she goes bat-shit on you.” She smirked and strutted away.

“Your little old mother? I highly doubt she’d be that mad-”

“Little? Old?”

Jesse McCree turned to ice, “Umm-”

“That’s not a very nice thing to call your commanding officer, Detective.”

Jesse swirled around to find his boss standing right behind him, “Sorry ma’am. Y’know I didn’t  _ actually  _ mean it.”

“Do I know? I’m not sure,” Ana’s expression turned into a wicked grin, “Do you maybe want to say that again to my face?”

“No ma’am! It will not happen again, I swear.”

“You’re on thin ice, detective.” Ana scolded, “Now, follow me. You’re in charge of border patrol.” Jesse followed his boss down the twisting hallways of the police base. They passed interrogation rooms, holding cells, and some of the largest databases McCree had ever stepped foot in. They reached Amari’s office, proudly labeled as such.

Jesse followed Ana into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat in the plush seat in front of her desk, and huffed when he fell into the cushion. 

“I need you on full alert today McCree, this is a rather large event. I’m giving you command of squadron A through H, and I want you to roll out with them in twenty minutes to set up. I want you checking in on each of the groups regularly, and make sure your men know that they must stay in groups of two at all time.

“Grab the B-class equipment, while I highly doubt any villains will ambush the ceremony with Sparrow present, it’s better to be prepared.”

“That all?” McCree asked, bored.

“If I find out any of your squadrons were slacking, both you and the group will get reduced pay for a month.” The commander warned, “Capice?”

McCree anxiously sat upright, “Y-yes ma’am!” Ana smirked knowing she knew exactly how to press his buttons. McCree shot out of the room to get to work.


	3. Chapter 3

Getting the squadrons together was the easy part. Getting the squadrons to work together was harder. Jesse had corralled them into the briefing room, each one of them armed with the Class-B armor. The room was bustling and chirping with excitement, however a few glares were shot back and forth.

“Now before we all get started,” Jesse began, the room shutting up the moment he opened his mouth, “I wanna say this: The squadron contest is off for this event and will resume once it’s done. So all of this?” Jesse gestured to two of the squadrons currently making faces at each other, “is not allowed. Points are suspended until tomorrow. However, I am not afraid to take away points if y'all are acting out. Better keep in mind that the prize is a bonus.” The officers stopped making faces, and the tension started to dissipate. He waited for the room to completely settle until he got to business.

He divided the groups into locations, and then dismissed them so they could get to central park, where the ceremony would be held. Once the last man left the room, Jesse exited himself.

He took his own cruiser, which he had left at the station over the weekend, and drove to the park. He noticed the closer he got to the park, the more traffic there was. He also noticed all the people suddenly flooding the area, trying to secure a good seat hours before the ceremony even started. There was street vendors selling everything from food to Sparrow t-shirts. Jesse took his eyes off the attraction, and focused himself back on the road. It took him three times the amount of time it would have taken on a regular day. He knew he couldn’t just beep at the other cars to hurry the process, since no one was going anywhere, but he still felt the urge to punch the center of the driving wheel until his knuckles were bloody.

Once he finally was able to park, he joined the first group on his list. He set off taking rounds, walking to each group around the park and quickly checking in. His stops were brief and casual, until he caught a certain officer with a deck of cards.

“Agent Song!” McCree hollered. Hana Song, a newer member on the force, shot up from her seat on the bench.

“Yes sir!” She replied, shoving the cards behind her. The two officers she was playing with also got up, but skittered away before McCree could call them back.

“I thought you were better than this, no slacking on the job, y’hear me? Or else it’ll be a cut to both of our pay.”

“Of course, sir, it won’t happen again.” She saluted half-joking. McCree looked curiously at the abandoned cards.

“What’re y’all playing anyways?” He walked around Officer Song to get a better look, “Is this Gin Rummy?”

“Yeah,” Hana could sense the curiosity in his voice, “Do y’know how to play with points? We’ll deal you in.” The other two officers who had scattered looked at her shocked and panicked, frantically shaking their heads. 

Jesse’s eyes glinted mischievously, “Y’know, it wouldn’t hurt to play  _ one _ round.” Hana smirked triumphantly as she gestured to the other officers. The four sat down for a quick game of cards as the sun reached the peak of the sky.

What Jesse McCree didn’t know was that the proceeding ceremonies were being held in five minutes, and a certain green vigilante had just arrived to the scene.

* * *

 

McCree didn’t know how much time had passed, but honestly, he could care less. This whole event was stupid anyways, and just like the captain had said, there wasn’t supposed to be any attacks. Halfway through their third game, McCree felt his phone buzz.

“Oh no,” He sighed, “I gotta go. Put away the cards and be on your feet. If Captain Amari sees y’all, I’m also responsible.” Hana nodded and threw the cards back in their box. McCree turned the other direction and ran into the trees. He reached the next patrol station where Fareeha was waiting for him.

“My mom is pissed, she said you hadn’t gotten to these groups yet when you should’ve.” Fareeha seethed, “I thought I said not to piss her off! Now she wants you by the stage, she wants to talk to you personally.”

McCree didn’t move at first, but Fareeha pushed him along, “I said go! She’s already mad as it is, and the ceremony is going to end soon. Hurry up, you ass!”

“Ok, ok, jeez,” Jesse walked away from his friend, “Just calm down, alright? Nothing is going down, I had everything covered.” Jesse could hear Fareeha still arguing with him, but he brushed it off and kept walking forward. He walked in the direction of the noise, and found himself at the edge of the crowd.

He saw countless cosplayers, fans, families, and even die-hard theorists arguing with each other as he passed the chaos. Once he got to the foot of the stage, the event began. ‘Y’know what,’ Jesse thought with a devilish grin, ‘Amari can wait, let’s see what kinda man this Sparrow really is.’

The stage was big, custom built for this event since no other space in the city was this large. There were green banners on either sides with the city’s insignia, and golden confetti littered the stage. Jesse watched as the band that was currently playing finished their song and marched off. The mayor followed after them, and with her came a surge of applause. She was a petite woman, short and frail, and used a cane to help her up the stairs.

“Welcome, people of all ages, to the city’s honorary festival to the savior, Sparrow!” The mayor said excitedly, “We gathered here today to celebrate a member of our community who has gone above and beyond to protect our citizens…” Jesse dozed off, he had heard this all before. However, something caught his eye on one of the many towering buildings around the park. Something was reflecting the sun on the top of an apartment building.

“And here he is, our city savior, the Sparrow!” Suddenly the speck moved, and was hurdling its way down from the building. Instead of falling on the road beneath him, the figure seemed to glide in thin air towards the stage. McCree recognized him instantly. Sparrow, sliding down from an invisible wire connected to the stage, landed softly on the platform next to the mayor and the crowd went wild. The mayor handed him the microphone.

“Hello people of Metropolis!” Sparrow enthusiastically said to the crowd, “How are you all doing today?” The crowd responded with happy cheers.

“I am here today, not only to be honored, but to be straight with you.” He chuckled, as if he told a funny joke only he would get, “I have been shrouded in mystery all my life, and I don’t think that’s fair to any of you.” Jesse smirked, ‘Damn right…’

“I am here because you have given me a name simply by who I am, Sparrow. But you all deserve to know who I am.” The crowd gasped, and McCree swore he saw a poor girl almost pass out. 

“Although for my safety and yours, I won't be telling you my name, I can tell you who I am as a person.” He began.

McCree scoffed, “How pretentious can you get?” Sparrow launched into a very scripted speech, talking about how he grew up in the city and how it was his home blah blah blah. As he was talking, McCree felt a shiver up his back. He trusted his gut like a best friend, and he knew something wasn't right. There was an eerie tension in the air, and he heard a faint buzzing like electricity around him.

Jesse surveyed the scene and found everyone completely oblivious to the noise. He quickly swiveled his head to the left, and caught a figure in the corner of his eye. A man in a hoodie was running towards the stage. Before McCree could react to the shady figure, the explosion knocked him off his feet and sent his ears ringing.

The bomb couldn't have been far away from him, he realized. When he finally shook himself out of the initial shock and opened his eyes, he was greeted by waves of screams. People were scattering in every direction, thankfully avoiding McCree’s disabled body behind the metal divider. He rose up, using the metal gate to steady himself, when he saw him. His mind flashed back to his dream and the mask. White like bone, curious like an owl. 

A figure dressed in all black stood on the stage, his face masked with the eerie resemblance. He had a boot pressed on the Sparrow’s chest as he… sparked? The tech in his body must have been malfunctioning, since he was stagnant under his attacker’s force. The screens behind them, which originally bore the city’s logo, were now flashing an emblem that was not recognizable to McCree.

Jesse felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked quickly and found Fareeha tugging at him, yelling something in his ear. As he turned to follow, he looked back one last time. He didn't know how to feel as he watched the horrors on stage.

The shadowy figure had bent down, and was sinking his ‘claws’ into Sparrow. Sparrow was still motionless, limp in the hands of the terrorist. As more and more people fled the scene, and the park cleared, the man sunk his entire hand into the chest of Sparrow, causing him to spark more violently, and completely shut down. 

As Jesse was pulled away from the scene, and was shoved into the brush, he swore he saw Sparrow’s chest leak a scarlet red.

“Human.”


	4. Chapter 4

McCree woke up slowly and in pain. His ribs ached and his good arm stung. As he peaked his eyes open, he was hit by a wave of light in the small room he was laying in. The hospital’s eerie white glow made his skin crawl as he slowly flipped himself over. He curled into his pillow, trying to fall back asleep and ignore the tell-tale taste of IV on his lips. The hospital’s sterile scent seemed to keep him awake, and he fully opened his eyes. There was a bouquet of flowers next to his bedside and a single generic card without any writing on it except for ‘get well soon’.

He pulled himself up against the backboard and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t remember much of anything, and he painfully tried to reach into the back of his mind. As he woke himself up, a woman walked in through the door. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” A familiar voice softly floated through the air.

“Fareeha, how long have I been out?” 

“A good day and a half, that explosion really did a number on you.”

“Explosion?-” The memories came rushing back to Jesse, as if the floodgates were opened in his brain. The explosion, the mysterious man, the Sparrow, blood…. Memories that were once forgotten to him were now etched into his eyelids. 

“Jesus, what happened…” McCree shifted over to the side of the bed, starting to get up. 

Fareeha rushed over, “Stay in bed, you really hurt your leg. I’ll tell you.” She got him back into bed, and softly huffed, “There was an attack. Many people were injured, two are dead, one is missing. The city and the people are blaming us, and we’re still investigating.”

McCree didn’t say anything, was there even anything to say? He heard a naggin voice in the back of his head, telling him that it was his fault, that he was a killer, and that he shouldn’t be alive right now. It was the usual for him. He shoved those thoughts into the back of his mind, and sighed, his voice quivering. Other than that, his mind was silent. He was trying to think of what to do next, but not even that was coming to him. It felt like someone had poured wet cement into his ears and he was slowly stiffening up. 

“My mom is going to come in and see you, but I have to warn you,” Fareeha stood up, “She’s not happy.” She gave one last pat on McCree’s shoulder before she walked out of the room. He was left alone, without even his thoughts to keep him company.

He painfully shifted himself up to sit with his back against the bedframe, and very slowly shifted the sheets to look down at his injuries. He didn’t even feel the pain in his leg until he looked down and saw the bandages wrapping its entirety. At least he could tell his entire leg was still intact, the last thing he needed was another prosthetic to rehabilitate from. As he was checking himself over, the door opened again.

Very softly, as if she were walking on nothing, came in Captain Amari. Her soft demeanor didn’t match with her expression, drained and upset. She didn’t say a word, so neither did McCree. She walked over and sat in the seat next to him. For a a few seconds, they didn’t talk. 

“I know you won’t care-” Ana started, and McCree shifted towards her to listen, “But Sparrow is missing. You’re not going to like it, but we’re vulnerable. Vulnerable because our line of defense was littered with cracks. Littered with…” Ana handed McCree a small parcel.

“A deck of cards?” McCree stared down at the red and blue package. Then it hit him, the games he played with that squadron at the park, and his stalling.

“The officers of that squadron are being questioned, and the female one in particular, has been suspended for neglecting duty.” Ana explained, “but we also had to suspend another officer as well.”

“Who?” McCree asked, but he knew the answer. Ana put her hand out, and McCree reached over to the side of the bedside table to grab his belongings. He didn’t like having to turn in his badge, it was almost a sense of identity to him now, but he’d rather take the suspension that possibly getting fired. However, when he reached over, he found his badge gone.

“Umm,” McCree faltered, “Ya sure they got everything of mine at the scene?”

“Yes, the scene has been thoroughly examined and cleaned up now. We’ve taken all the evidence back to hq, why?”

“I think someone took my badge, it’s not here.” Even though he was just about to turn his badge over, he felt the sting of not having it right near him. 

Ana sighed, stood up, and said, “That’s more of a formality anyways, your suspension is effective right now,” then she turned to McCree, a soft smile on her face, “Now that you’re no longer my co worker, get better McCree, and come back with a clear head. I don’t know what has been happening recently with your guard down like this, but I hope this is your wakeup call to change.” She left the room without another word.

_Change_ , McCree thought. What was it  _ he  _ needed to change? Hadn’t he done all that he could? It was the squadrons fault they let someone plant an actual bomb in the crowd. Wasn’t it? Slowly, he began to unwrap his leg, the stinging pain receding as he stripped away the bandage. He revealed his bare leg, shaven by the doctors to properly tend to the damage, which was covered in cuts and gashes. Some of the larger cuts were stitched together, but the majority had already healed over and were scarred. McCree wrapped his leg again, and very slowly got out of bed. He looked at his arm where the IV was placed, and very carefully took it out of his own arm. His arm tensed as he pulled out, he hated needles. He cursed himself when he pulled it out too fast, and his arm was left with a tense shock. 

He moved towards the other side of the room where his clothes were nicely folded. He decided to just put on his undershirt and his pants, his uniform top didn’t seem appropriate with the circumstances. When he walked into the connected bathroom, he was surprised to find a razor and a toothbrush on the sink. He thought for a second, turning over the words Amari had said in his head, and walked in front of the mirror. He grabbed the razor.

_Change, huh,_ he chuckled to himself, _I’ll show ‘em change._ His soul wept a little as he brought the razor to the side of his beard. It was a hack job, but McCree was able to trim his beard back quite a ways, giving him a more clean cut look than before. With his beard being almost completely gone his face looked different in more ways too. His jaw was more blocky than he realized, and didn’t even realize that he had a mole underneath his left ear. ‘Change,’ he thought. He exited the bathroom with a huff, moving over to the side of his bed and looking for his phone. He found it in the cabinet, tucked away with his wallet and keys. He turned it on precariously, and stung with guilt when he saw the heaps of messages that flooded his inbox. There were texts from Fareeha and Ana, emails from the commissioner and colleagues, and plenty of facebook notifications. 

He sped through the texts, barely reading what they were screaming at him, and made his way to his email inbox. He sifted through the inbox, deleting any spam and starring emails directed for him to see. He didn’t expect to find an email labeled “Hello” from an unknown user. McCree stared at the email, as if it was just going to tell him what it said. Slowly, he opened the document, curious to find out what it said. More importantly, how it was sent to him on a secure server. 

 

>>Dragonborn.7727769@gmail.com

>Hello

>Dear Officer McCree,

>I hope I am not disturbing you from your efforts to rehabilitate, but I am in urgent need of your >services. I have something of yours that you may want in return:

[An image of McCree’s wallet and a set of dog tags were attached in a photo.]

>Meet me where you saw me that day, when I was running to the stage.

>I am not your enemy,

>H.S.

 

The message was cryptic and unsettling, but McCree felt the pit of his stomach drop even more when he saw the necklace, and reached for his neck.  _ How could he realize it wasn’t there? _ He opened a new draft to reply, but stopped himself. If this man really did have his belongings, and was really blackmailing him, then he didn’t want the department to see him play into the theif. ‘I’ll just go, maybe he will be waiting,’ McCree thought to himself, seeing the recent sent date at the top of the screen.

McCree scrambled around the room for his belongings, grabbing his shirt, wallet, and boots. He suited himself up and started to walk out of the room, until a nurse stopped him in the entryway. She was saying something about rest and him needing to lay down, but McCree felt fine. He kept telling himself that, that he felt fine. He shoved past her and walked down the hallway. The nurse was starting to speak up in protest, but stopped when someone walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. McCree looked back one more time before he entered the hospital elevator, and saw Ana talking to the nurse in a hushed whisper. 

He took the opportunity granted by the Captain, entered the elevator, and left the hospital. _I never really liked that sterile smell anyways._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There is some gore-y descriptions at the bottom.

McCree realized he didn’t have a car to use and was stuck in the middle of the parking lot without a clue on what to do. He thought about calling an Uber, but then again the park wasn’t that far away. Maybe a walk was just what he needed. He exited the building through the parking lot, and walked down the alleyway behind the hospital building. It wasn’t super narrow like some alleyways, but he still had to push all of his weight into the wall to let a car go by. He eventually exited the pathway onto 31st street, and walked in the direction of the park.

Just walking down the street for five minutes, he could feel the tenseness in the air. Everyone he passed by was on edge, and there was a sense of anticipation amongst them. The terrified faces and anxious glares juxtaposed the scenery around him. It was fall, the leaves were just beginning to turn an amber red. Some trees had a calm pink hue to them, and the leaves were soft and fragile, rather than dry and crispy. It was a beautiful sight in the metropolitan city, but it was smothered by the resounding mood. McCree crossed the street to reach one corner of the park, the exact opposite side of where he needed to be. He walked into the park, following the stone pathways down towards the lake and across the bike path. For a moment, everything felt serene. There was no crime scene anywhere in sight, just the water and the pink trees. McCree took a deep breath in, taking in the smells of the woods and fresh cut grass. He felt like he could stay there forever. 

Except he couldn’t, so he kept forcing himself to move forward, across the bridge that connected the two halves of the park, and towards where the stage was. He saw the metal pillars sticking up above the trees, and McCree noticed the sagging police tape wrapped around the proximity. He didn’t walk too close to the stage, not wanting any lingering police to see him and report him to the Amaris. He got to the corner of the stage where he saw the hooded figure running. It was only at this moment did he really think to himself, why was he there again? Whoever was here obviously took his wallet and his necklace, but this seemed too suspicious. ‘You don’t need to hold onto that obnoxious memento for your whole life, ya know,’ He told himself, thinking about the necklace. Something in the back of his mind responded with a wave of guilt, ‘No,’ he responded, ‘I really, really do.’ McCree took one more step forward to look for the man, who he didn’t even know would be there for sure, and felt a sharp stab in his back. Before he could react, he was thrown to the ground, something large and heavy pressing into him. The figure walked off Jesse, but stepped in just the wrong places on his legs, and forced his wounds to reopen.

Jesse didn’t realize how painful it was until he realized he was passing out. A black curtain seemed to be reaching around from the back of his eyes, slowly shutting his vision down. Before he passed out completely, the burning and cold sensation in his leg flashing to life, he heard a voice from above him.

“I see you’ve come,” The figure paused as McCree was losing his grasp on the world, “What are you- oh. Oh your leg, oh no. Wait--” It was too late, McCree passed out before the figure fully understood what he had done.

* * *

 

He was on a beach, near the water, sun slowly setting in the sky. He shifted his hands through the warm sand around him, letting the sensation of the warm, small particles graze his skin lightly. McCree breathed softly, and let his shoulders drop and relax. He opened his eyes slowly to the sound of a voice calling out to him. He looked up and saw his sister, his parents, and another figure he couldn’t quite make out. They were running towards them, seemingly happy, but McCree heard them calling out in terror. 

As his family got closer to him, McCree’s eyes dilated. The figure he couldn’t quite see was like a shadow, cloudy and black. It took a humanesque form in some places, but it malformed into a mass in others. Before McCree could get himself to his feet, the shadow encased his family, their screams ringing out. McCree tried to call out, but his throat was swollen. He ran forward with fervor, and when he delved into the storm, he felt his lungs clogged with tobacco and smog. His eyes watered and stung as he tried to look around, but the beach was gone. It was pitch black and noiseless.

Jesse fell to the ground, his breath fluctuating and heaving in pain. He lost his grip on the world, and felt his mind begin to shut down. As he fell to his knees, his body sinking into the black sand beneath him, he felt a cold press to his leg. He looked up one last time before passing out, and saw a black, hooded figure with a white mask. White like bone, curious like an owl.

* * *

 

Jesse woke up groggily, his mind numbed with pain. ‘Fuckin nightmares,’ he thought. However, he wasn’t in his apartment in his bed, cuddled up next to his dog. It wasn’t four in the morning, and he wasn’t opening his eyes to the sun barely peeking out over the city landscape. He was in a dark room, blacked out with paint and black curtains. There was a singular bright light in the center of the room, and he was currently tied down to a wooden chair. He was bound at his wrists, and his ankles to the feet of the chair. McCree tore his wrists in opposite directions, but there was no give in the rope. He tried at the legs of the chair, seeing if they would give underneath him, but they were also too sturdy to make any real pull. 

McCree raised his head to the sound of a door opening from across the room. The wall seemed to split as a door swung open to let a figure inside. The light in the middle of the room illuminated the new face, a man with scorching eyes. McCree was taken aback, this man did not seem like an abductor. He was wearing street clothes, a casual zip-up jacket and baggy pants with gold decals. He wore combat boots and gloves, as well as a face mask to conceal his mouth, but Jesse could still see his face. His eyes were a warm and violent shade, and his hair was a steel black color, tied back into a high ponytail. 

“An’ I thought I was just gettin’ my wallet back,” McCree chuckled, feeling how hoarse his voice was, “Shoulda known I was fallin’ into a trap.”

“I did mean to take you, but I didn't mean to reopen your wounds.” the figure explained, walking closer to McCree, “I am sorry.”

“Sayin’ sorry while ya got me tied up like an animal? Classy.” McCree spat, “Why the fuck have ya got me tied up in the first place.”

“You may have information,” the figure bent down to McCree’s level. He realized that the man’s eyes were not red as fire, as he had originally thought, but an auburn brown. They just were filled with distress and fury, and the light from between them highlighted the emotions he held.

“Why would I have information?” McCree asked, “I’m not high ranking, hell, I just got suspended. I’m probably the worst kidnappee that you ever abducted.”

“You act like I do this often,” The man sighed, the light receding from his eyes, “I don’t. To be completely honest, I didn’t want to fully  _ kidnap  _ you, but I did want to bring you with me. Willingly.”

“An’ why is that?” McCree leaned forward as much as the rope would let him, “Like I said, I am the worst person you coulda kidnapped.”

“I disagree.” The figure stood, the sudden movement startling McCree back into his chair, “You were the only one who noticed the buzzing before the bomb went off. You’re perceptive, and quite frankly, you have an ‘in’ to the police records.”

“Can I ask where I am now, or are ya gonna keep brooding over me, talking like a cryptic?” 

The man sighed, “No, you cannot. But I can take you to someone. And when you see them,” he walked behind McCree, undoing a single rope to unbind his hands to his chair, but leaving the rope that bound his hands, “You’ll understand. The city is in grave danger.”

McCree began to piece the situation together, “Goddamnit, y’all are vigilantes, aren’t ya?”

“Not me,” the man responded, pushing McCree along towards the door, “Not my line of work.”

“So you’re an assassin? Intel?” McCree questioned, “No let me guess, you’re the vigilante’s  _ lover _ .” McCree was taken aback when he heard a snort behind him.

“No. Absolutely not.” The man chuckled, before he quickly moved his arms and Jesse could no longer see. He felt the bag descend over his head, but he didn’t resist. The itchy burlap dug into his neck as the man kept it tight around him.

He was being led somewhere, but he had no clue where. McCree tried to listen around for whatever tell-tale sounds could tip him off, but wherever he was, it was completely silent except for his footsteps. He couldn’t even hear his abductor’s feet, as if he was hovering instead of walking. Soon, McCree stopped, tugged back by the rope around his wrists. He head a metal door open, and a cold blast of air hit him. He listened around him as he was led into the room, and heard a series of beeps and small vacuums. 

“Do you have a weak stomach?” The abductor asked, whom McCree noticed, was scarily close to his face.  
“Nah,” McCree responded, “I can betcha I’ve seen worse that whatever yer about to show me.” The abductor removed the bag around his head.

McCree was wrong, so desperately wrong. He looked straight in front of him to find a room that resembled a kitchen of some sorts, but on the island, there was a thin mattress supporting a body.  The body McCree recognized instantly,  _ The Sparrow _ , but his visor was removed. He wasn’t covered, and his chest and torso was partially open, exposing a mix of technological prosthetics connected to, supposedly, his organs. Those parts were still covered with skin. However, McCree could just see enough of how Sparrow’s body was connected through wire and vein alike. He did feel a bit sick, this was too exposed. 

Another man from across the room moved forward, a young man dressed with a lab coat stained with dark blood by the sleeves. He had dark skin, a soft, knowing face, and dreads tied back. His eyes screamed innocence and fear, but his body protruded confidence and knowledge. He walked over to the side of the bed and grabbed Sparrow’s limp hand. Sparrow’s face was also exposed, scarred and worn, but young. He had vibrant green hair, but it was stained in the black and brown of dried blood. 

“This is why we need your help,” the abductor told McCree.

“Well, for one, I’m not a fuckin’ paramedic.”


	6. Chapter 6

McCree was sitting in a chair handed to him by the doctor in the room. He had his head in his hands, and was thinking intensely. He was rolling over what his abductor, named simply Cyber, had told him. This was Sparrow, like he had guessed, and he was in a critical state, also like he had guessed. The doctor in the room wasn’t much of a doctor at all, but a nurse in training at the local university, and to McCree’s surprise, Sparrow’s boyfriend. 

“Why aren’t you hiding your face?” McCree had asked at one point, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll question you about this? Hunt ya down? Weasel information outta ya?” It was playful teasing at best.

“I’m not like them,” the man gestured to the two others in the room, “You can question me all you want, but I know for sure I’m not giving up anything about their identities or what we do. You can track me down, if you want. Just know that I’ll be useless to you.”

“Huh,” McCree was taken aback, the nurse was gutsy. Another thought surfaced to his mind, just what kind of medieval horrors did this guy think the police force used for questioning? The man stared and McCree like he was going to pull his fingernails off for not talking, but also that he was completely ok with that happening, since he knew he wouldn’t talk.

His abductor only called himself Cyber, but revealed that he was Sparrow’s brother. He pulled up a chair next to McCree, and sighed softly. McCree glanced over and realized that this man was very, very tired. The bags under his eyes rivaled his own, and the fire he saw before in the blacked out room was gone.

“The city is unprotected,” Cyber finally spoke up, “Without Sparrow, our intel says that the Reaper will strike again.”

“That’s what yer callin’ the man from the stage?” McCree asked, barely moving his head.

“Not just us,” the nurse walked over from the other side of the room, handing McCree a newspaper, “The whole world.” It was a copy of the Global Times, and the headline was bold and definitive. ‘Another Vigilante falls to the Clutches of the Reaper, Questioning Global Safety in hands of “Protectors”’. The document went on to explain the fears and dangers that the city of Metropolis, the author being extremely detailed in their own personal speculations, but also not forgetting to pick up on the harsh realities the city is already facing. McCree followed the article down to a series of charts and graphs. His heart skipped a beat as he read the numbers: five police KIA this week alone, thirty six civilian casualties. The question was begging to be asked.

“Wait, how long have I been out?” McCree tentatively asked, watching the men’s faces for reactions. He immediately noticed the nurse’s pull-back.

“Three days,” his abductor spoke up.

“Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe his ears, “I passed out because of my wounds reopening, but I’ve been out for three whole days?”

“We had to sedate you, needed to make sure Gen- Sparrow was stable before we dealt with you.” the nurse wanted to keep quiet, but the words seemed to spill out of his mouth. ‘So much for that “keeping quiet” B.S.’ McCree thought. He rested his head back down into his hands, taking a deep, long breath. His rage had been building steadily now, but he felt his tipping point coming into sight. 

“You’ve held me against my will, sedated me, showed me this grisly display,” McCree motioned to Sparrow on the gurney, “and now ya want my help?”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Cyber started, but McCree cut him off.

“Yeah, it ISN’T ideal. It’s not fuckin’ ideal whatsoever. So unideal that I ain’t going to help. No explanation, no nuthin.”

“I don’t think you understand,” the nurse started to grow impatient, “People are dying-”

“An’ I know they are!” McCree shouted, his rage exploding into view, “Hell, those men who died might as well have been my own! But it ain’t my fault. It’s YOURS.” McCree pointed to the Sparrow, “It’s HIS.”

The abductors just stood there as Jesse ranted on, “You so called ‘protectors’ of the city don’t know HOW to be careful, or how to act, or how not to kill countless people in your tirades of ‘heroic action’. You know how many died when the building holding Doctor what’s-his-name crashed to the ground because of Sparrow’s ‘heroic actions’? Ninety-Seven. Almost a hundred people dead to kill one man, who hasn’t even killed that many.”

“That’s what the press is having you believe?” Cyber walked forward, “Sparrow didn’t take down that building, Doctor Kalpus took it down himself. Sparrow tried to save as many civilians as he could. But he wasn’t able to save everyone.”

“Bullshit,” McCree spat, “I was the one who saw Sparrow exiting that building before it came down. He sure wasn’t savin’ nobody.”

“Please stop!” The nurse cried out, and the two men turned to realize the machines connected to  Sparrow were beeping rapidly. The nurse ran over, looking into Sparrow’s body to find the problem, and Cyber ran over to assist him. Suddenly there was blood, and Sparrow’s legs were kicking and flailing rapidly. The two men were shouting something at each other to try and stop the injury, but McCree realized he wasn’t focused on them at all, but rather the crimson color leaking down the silver armor of the vigilante.

‘That’s right, human.’ He thought, watching the blood drip down in spurts, ‘I’m the only person in the city who knows that Sparrow is somewhat human. Information the city has been trying to get for ages. Information that half the city is discussing in their conspiracy theory groups.’ McCree’s eyes brightened, ‘I have leverage to get back in. To stop that suspension. Ana will have to take me back.’

His eyes darted to the door, but before he could think of a plan to escape, his abductor called out to him, “Can you please help us?”

McCree turned, “What?”

Cyber sighed, “Can you help us with the person bleeding out over here?” Jesse’s mind screamed ‘absolutely not’ and that he should’ve ran right there and then, but his heart made him walk over to the gurney. The nurse shoved gloves and surgical sponges into McCree’s hands, guiding him with what to do. McCree had an empty stomach from being sedated for three days, but he felt as if he was holding his breakfast back as he placed the surgical sponges between the crevices in Sparrow’s body.  He watched in amazement as the nurse swiftly delved in, redoing the damaged stitches, and slowly making the bleeding stop. By the time the procedure was over and Sparrow was stable again, McCree was covered in blood.

“There is a shower here,” the nurse spoke quietly to him, trying to not upset the patient any further, “and we can get you a spare change of clothes.”

“I was just expecting’ y’all to let me go, so I can take care of myself at home?” It was a long shot, but maybe his abductors would just let him go. 

“That is not happening,” Cyber walked back to the nurse and McCree, “Again, you have information. We need your help.” 

“Look pal, ya got the wrong guy to give you info.” McCree sighed into his hand, “I’m not helping ya.”

“Then you will stay here,” both the nurse and McCree were startled by the firm response, “If you will not give information willingly, then we will keep you here for as long as we need.”

“What information do you need from the police anyways? I bet y’all have more info in the Reaper and other villains than we do. Oh, and thanks, by the way, for keeping all of that to yourselves.”

“I need to find someone.”

“Who?”

Cyber sighed, “ A doctor, a real one. The person who made Sparrow’s... enhancements. She moves around a lot, and we don’t know where she is now. We believe she is working with the police.”

McCree was intrigued, “And who is this mystery woman?”

The nurse sighed, “Doctor Angela Ziegler.”


	7. Chapter 7

They weren’t bluffing, they truly were going to keep him there until he talked. Except, they obviously weren’t kidnappers for their trade. The nurse chided Cyber’s ear until he went to Jesse’s apartment for spare clothes. How they knew his address was above him, and even more, how Cyber managed to get in. McCree was allowed in the rest of the building, but all of the windows were blacked out like screens. McCree had no clue where he was, but he knew he was still in the city. The bustling sounds outside tipped him off. 

He was given a guest bedroom, something that McCree felt was really unusual for an abduction. The room was incredibly nice, modernly decorated and serene. It was a complete turn from the blacked out room and makeshift surgery room he had been in before. Instinctually, McCree tried to open the door just to crack it open, he didn’t feel safe without it a little open. However, he found it locked without a way to unlock it from his side. McCree felt stupid, of course they’d lock him in, he was still a prisoner. 

He walked over to the bed and sat down, slumping down with his arms between his legs. It was a soft bed, softer than his own, with little to no support of his weight when he weighed into it. He relaxed backwards, sprawling out on the soft mesh, sighing loudly. The ceiling was painted with a deep grey, spirals of a lighter color underneath, as if the ceiling were painted with storm clouds. He hated it. 

He sat back up again, unable to look at the ominous ceiling and reached to his pocket for his phone. Finding it wasn’t there was both upsetting, but also totally expected. Before he could explore the room further, the door creaked open, and Cyber walked in. He was wearing more comfortable clothes, a long sleeve v-neck in a dark blue color, and soft sweats which layered against him so relaxedly. Except he still had his facemask on, a cutting black piece of fabric that draped over his neck, secured by a metal band above his lip.

“That thing,” McCree gestured to the gap between his nose and upper lip, “Looks ridiculous. I’d bet you’d look a lot prettier without it covering’ half yer face.” McCree was taken back from his own words, where did that come from? Cyber’s eyes widened, and he huffed, turning away. McCree could swear he saw a blush fleeting on his face.

“It is to protect my identity, you know that by now.” Cyber moved a hand to his face, “I came in here to get you, it’s getting late and Lucio made food.”

“Lucio?” McCree wondered out loud, “the nurse?”

“Yes,” Cyber opened the door wider, letting in soft scents of something intriguingly delicious, “He already showed you his face, so he didn’t care to hide his name either.”

“At least one of ya has the courtesy,” McCree huffed to himself, rising from the bed. He followed Cyber out indignantly, and was led through an apartment space. They didn’t go back into the surgery room, thank god, but rather a separate makeshift kitchen with portable stovetops and an enticing aroma. McCree sat in the chair pulled out, supposedly for him, at the island in the middle of the room. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until a plate of food was put down in front of him, a mouth-watering skirt steak with fried plantains and rice. On top of it all were grilled onions, what looked like pico de gallo, and a yellow, mustard-like sauce. It look damn-right delicious. 

He started to eat hastily, not even caring that the other two men in the room were staring at him the moment he got the plate. Being passed out for three days did a number on his stomach and his mind, he felt like an animal with how hungry he was. He only looked up when he heard the two men shift around to sit at the island next to him. They were eating slowly, per cautiously, and listening to every small movement in the house as if they were about to be attacked at any moment. McCree slowed his pace, suddenly feeling awkward. 

As they finished their meal, McCree was lead to yet another room. He almost felt like cattle, how much he was led around without any mindfulness. He was led into a living room, completely darkened by the window black tint. Cyber flicked on the lights, revealing the almost pristine state of the living space. He was sat down on a white cream couch, and Cyber sat across from him, crossing his legs on a white ottoman. The two sat in silence for a long while, until McCree finally spoke up. 

“So. Information, huh? A Doctor Ziegler?” McCree rolled the ideas around in his mind. He certainly wasn’t going to give any info up, but he was curious to see how Cyber would react.

“Yes,” Cyber breathed in a sigh of relief, “You’re finally going to talk?”

“Nah, just curious.”

Cyber’s eyes tensened, seemingly shooting daggers, “You understand what you are doing, correct?”

McCree looked around, jokingly surprised, “Naw, what AM I doin, Cyber?”

Through gritted teeth and pure anger, Cyber seethed, “ _ You are toying with my brother’s life _ .” 

It struck McCree. The man known as Sparrow did somewhat match the man sitting in front of him, they had the same nose, the same eye shape, and the same facial structure. He kicked the detective part of his mind for not realizing this earlier. 

“Fuck, I-”

“No. Stop talking. I know whatever you’re about to say won’t be the i _ nformation _ I need, so just listen,” Cyber said scornfully, “He regrets it every day.”

“What-” McCree was cut off again.

“The  _ building _ . All the people he couldn’t save. Every single one. When he wakes up, we will be able to recount every single one of their names, including the rest he hasn't been able to say.” McCree’s face spoke wonders to his disbelief, “He never wanted this, I swear. He never wanted those people to die. And he does regret it every day.”

“So-”

“Stop. Talking.” Cyber insisted, “Please, for the love of god, just listen. Without this doctor that we’ve requested, he will  _ die _ .”

The last sentence rang through the room like a gunshot. The name Cyber just spat feel like acid on McCree’s ears.  _ Human _ , he remembered,  _ He IS human. You know that information, why aren’t you running? Why aren’t you getting this valuable info to the police? _ His mind was screaming at him, pushing and pulling him to move, to do anything but sit there. Except, that was all he could do. He sat speechless, his internal turmoil not showing on his face. He looked up and saw Cyber with his head in his hands.

“Yer not a vigilante, are ya?” McCree questioned, looking up at the man across from him, “You seem new at this.”

“I...” Cyber faltered, “I was roped into this. I am not a vigilante like my brother, I just need your help. Desperately.”

McCree stiffened, the stoic man turned soft for just a moment, and a fleeting one at that. As quickly as the man showed emotion, he covered it with steel eyes. The fire that was once there was gone, and he was stagnant. Waiting. 

McCree sighed, this was everything he was against. He was the one who was at the city counsel fighting so hard for a criminal warrant against Sparrow, but also the other few vigilantes who roamed around them. Not only did he not get the warrant, but he was now from then on in the department for being anti-vigilante. Fareeha tried to reason with him, even Ana, but no one could sway him. Absolutely nobody would make him forget of his partner who was swept up in some vigilante’s game and subsequently killed. No one. 

But McCree found himself still remembering  _ him _ to this day with the man’s dog tags around his neck, and even now while his mind started to melt from the man in front of him. He hated to say how emotional this made him, with seeing Sparrow so open and vulnerable, his boyfriend being silent and worried while also trying to hold a brave face, and his brother taking drastic measures to save him, at any cost. Hell, they were risking the felony of kidnapping him in the first place. A cop no less. 

He sat there, just a while longer, until he suddenly felt uncomfortable and rolled his hips back into the couch further. His mind was buzzing, it almost was impossible to hear himself over it all. Except, something clicked. The final puzzle piece fell into place in his mind. He was sitting across from the one person who held the most valuable information in the city.

“I’ll do it.” He said affirmatively, almost harshly as the words fled out of his mouth, “I’ll get this doctor of yours, but one condition.” Cyber already looked on board, his eyes burned with the fire that held them before, and his posture shifted into intrigue, “You have to tell me Sparrow’s real name.” At first, Cyber was taken aback. He looked at the cop across from him, the gears in his mind turning. Jesse didn’t know what he was thinking, but he hoped it was the answer he was looking for. 

Cyber sighed, his eyes looked side to side as if he were searching for an answer, “... For his life, I will give you that. Once you give us the doctor, you can tell the police his name. I will… I will tell you.” Jesse sighed, and rose to his feet. Cyber moved backwards in his chair, away from a potential threat, but Jesse just chuckled.

“That seems like a pretty good deal, partner.” Jesse smiled softly at Cyber. Relief flushed over Cyber’s eyes as he nodded. As Cyber rose with him, Jesse pushed the nagging thought that he was doing the wrong thing to the back of his mind. 

After all, he was the prisoner in this situation right? He used his flawed logic to calm his senses, but the nagging feeling remained. 

The nagging feeling never left.


	8. Chapter 8

To make sure McCree didn’t make a break for it, Cyber decided to send the nurse with him. Lucio was close at his heels the entire evening, even though they weren’t leaving until 11 pm. Jesse decided with Cyber it was better to go to the office at midnight, since it was the emptiest around them. The daytime officers were leaving, the nighttime officers not yet their yet, and anyone else was either on patrol or dealing with the local drunks. It was the perfect time to sneak in for info, especially since none of the nightime officers knew him that well.

He silently thanked Cyber when he handed him his own badge. They were all standing at the front door of the mystery house, and Jesse was haphazardly dressed as inconspicuous as possible. It was hard to pull it off, especially when the clothes Cyber grabbed from McCree’s house were all old, ratty t-shirts and formal slacks. He looked mismatched and unnatural.

“I started to panic,” Jesse remembered hearing from the smaller man when he was talking to the nurse. It elicited a small chuckle from him.

Regardless, he stood at the front door in his mismatched clothing with the nurse. Cyber walked over to the nurse first and whispered something in his ear, which Lucio quickly nodded along with. Then Cyber walked over to Jesse. Jesse was left speechless.

Slowly and silently, Cyber reached up and clicked something behind his head. As his hands lowered, so did the mask that covered his mouth. McCree watched flabbergasted as the man revealed his full face, and there was only one word on his mind:  _ pretty _ . Cyber’s face seemed fuller and stronger when he revealed the rest of it, his chin slightly stubbled by a beard, and his cheekbones cutting into his skin like knives. Who knew half a face could make such a difference? McCree felt his face flushing, but he trained his eyes forward, waiting for whatever Cyber was about to do.

Cyber just stood there for a while, until he spoke very quietly, “Please, hurry. I promise to give you our names once you return. I just,” Cyber’s voice hitched, but he held a straight and controlled face the entire time, “I cannot lose him again.”

“Understood,” McCree reassured, laying his hand gently on Cyber’s shoulder. He didn’t even realize what he did until he was too late. It was too gentle a touch, too intimate, but it was done all the same. He turned away from his captor to the door, where Lucio undid the multiple locks placed on the inside.

“This is a really, really blatant fire hazard, y’know.” McCree gestured to the series of locks.

“Well, when your boyfriend is a vigilante, you tend to forget things like fire hazards.” Lucio said softly, unlocking the last lock at the bottom. He opened the door into a hallway, which was lined with other doors and numbers. It hit McCree that they were in an apartment space, but he couldn’t tell exactly where they were within the city.

“C’mon,” Lucio walked out and down the hall, gesturing to McCree.

“Yer not gonna cover my head and act like this place is secret anymore?” McCree asked, but still followed the smaller man down the hallway.

“It’s abandoned and we move around a lot, it won’t matter anyways.” Lucio explained, walking briskly down the corridor. The two made their way through the building to the downstairs parking lot, where McCree found three vehicles. One was a black and silver pickup truck parked in the very back corner of the lot, and next to it was a green motorcycle. The motorcycle he recognized as Sparrow’s main form of transportation. Except, closest to them, the last car stood out. A tiny green electric car with a tan interior and a small frog bobblehead on the dashboard.  _ One of these is not like the other _ , McCree chuckled to himself. 

Lucio led McCree over to the electric car, and they both got in. Lucio pulled out of the lot and drove outside. It was dark out, which McCree expected due to it being very late, but he didn’t expect to see an immense amount of light on the horizon.

“What’s that?” McCree asked, pointing to the glowing area.

“Moorbroke,” Lucio explained, “We’re right in between the cities right now.”

McCree nodded as his eyes adjusted, and he could make out the faint city skyline. Lucio drove on the small paved area out onto a deserted street, and McCree could finally make out where they were. They were on the outskirts of Metropolis, right near the bay, on the water, and they were driving into the part of town labeled “the fish district”. As they drove into the city, McCree watched the vendors put away their product and close up shop. He silently watched as the city fell asleep, and he felt himself become tired as well. Car rides always made him sleepy at night. Almost silently, he fell into a nap.

* * *

 

“Hey,” Lucio called out to him, and McCree softly opened his eyes. For once in his life, he realized, he napped without any dreams. He sat up and looked around him, recognizing the block right next to the police station. 

“Thanks,” McCree nodded, unbuckling himself and exiting the car. Lucio followed him, and walked next to him on the sidewalk. McCree walked silently to the police station, where he could see patrols entering and exiting the building from the side. There were a couple people he recognized but didn’t know personally on the steps of the building. Some were on break, eating dinner or on their phones, but some seemed to be standing on guard.

“Are they… guarding it?” Lucio asked from behind McCree. McCree nodded softly, but walked forwards anyways. They crossed the street and started to walk up the marble stairs. The guards paid no heed as they entered the building, and once the two were on the other side of the doors, McCree grabbed Lucio and shuffled quickly to a hallway. 

“We have to work fast,” McCree explained, “Records are down this way, and it won’t take me long to get hers.”

“Got it,” Lucio confirmed, following after McCree as he walked briskly down the hall. 

McCree led them to the records room, an inconspicuous door with a complicated lock system. McCree pulled out his badge and began to type on the keypad in front of him. Lucio let his eyes wander away, and he turned around from the door to watch the hallway. However, something caught his eye in the room right behind him.

“Um,” Lucio spoke up, “McCree?”

“Not right now,” McCree grunted, “This system is givin’ me a hard time, let me figure this out.” He kept entering the code on the keypad, but the system kept spitting it back out, “Damn it!”

“Seriously, turn around.” Lucio tugged on McCree’s sleeve. McCree turned around frustratedly, but looked where Lucio was pointing. He was pointing to a small window that looked into a room. In the room right across from them, one of the numerous generic meeting rooms, was a blonde woman in a lab coat. She had her hair tied back, and her eyes were attached to a document in front of her. On the other side of her, to McCree’s dismay, was Fareeha. They were talking to each other with urgency, and McCree’s heart lept a bit. From the side they were standing, another figure came into view. 

“Captain Amari,” McCree whispered, anxiety leaping in his throat. He flipped around back to the keypad, typing away hurriedly. He only turned back around when he heard the door creak open.

“Lucio, hide!” McCree hissed to his side, but he didn’t see the smaller man. He turned around completely to see Lucio start to creak the door open.

“What are you doing?” McCree angrily whispered, waving his arms frantically. Lucio simply pointed inside.

“No! Do not go inside! You’re gonna get us caught!” McCree’s voice began to raise, but Lucio didn’t listen. He slipped inside the room, and McCree could hear the three women’s chatter subside. After a few minutes of silence, the door swung open and McCree fell backwards into the record room’s door.

“Jesse McCree,” A sinister, yet motherly tone radiated above him. “You are supposed to be on leave.” Jesse looked up to confirm his suspicions, Ana Amari.

“Ma’am, ya gotta listen to me, I’m just here to return my badge,” McCree reached down to pick up his badge from beside him. He held it out gingerly to the woman, who eyed it narrowly.

“You could’ve just dropped it off at the main office,” then her eyes glazed upwards towards the door, “And that room can only be accessed with a badge.” Her eyes darted back to McCree, “If I were to check the logs for the most recent entries and exits to that room, exactly how many failed attempts will I find?”

McCree thought long and hard for a suitable answer, “A couple, maybe.”

“Jesse,” She sighed, kneeling down next to him, “You know I love you like a son, and Fareeha has been your best friend since forever, but… that does not give you immunity.” She swept in and snatched the badge away from McCree’s hand, placing it in her front pocket.

“What… does that mean?” Jesse asked, afraid to find the answer.

“I’ll have to extend your suspension. I don’t know for how long, that’s up for the rest of the department to decide, but it won’t be short.”

Jesse felt like he got punched in the gut, more time away from work, especially with how badly the city was fairing?, “Ma’am, according to the times, we are actually losing officers to this ‘Bad Guy’. I have information that could help us-”

“Jesse,” Fareeha walked up behind her mom, joining the conversation, “We are losing officers, yes, but we already have a team of intel working on this. Some of the best in the department. I hate to say it, but… We can’t have you interfering.”

“So…?” Jesse began.

“So, we will have to ask you to leave the station. Come back when your suspension is up.”

“But I have info-”

“And the law says if we take that information, then the case becomes corrupted by a suspended cop.” Ana interjected, sighing, “I don’t want to make this case any harder than it has to be. Don’t tell us. Anyways, anything that you could find out on your own should be easily found by our own detectives.”

“BUT-” McCree raised his voice, but a small, dark hand grabbed his attention. Lucio was waving at him frantically inside the room, pointing at the blonde woman, and signalling him to ‘stop, oh god please stop’. Jesse slowly put two and two together, looking at the woman’s garb and Lucio’s excitedness. They had found their doctor.

Jesse sighed, putting his face into his hand, “Nevermind. Ya won’t listen to me anyways. I’ll leave.” He rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes, and walking away from the mother-daughter duo. 

“Jesse, I’m sorry,” Fareeha began to say, but her mother stopped her.

“Don’t apologize. Jesse knows the rules. Come back after your suspension, then we’ll talk.” Ana was still staring at him, disappointed, but not cold. Behind them, Lucio walked out with the doctor behind him.

Ana turned to look behind her, then returned back to Jesse, “Oh, and good job, bringing a civilian in here to interrupt our meeting.”

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” Lucio piped up behind her, “It was very important that I talk to Miss Ziegler here.”

“Angela?” Fareeha questioned, looking at the doctor softly, “What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just a house call I have to make. Lucio and I were close friends from medical school,” the doctor, Ziegler, explained. Lucio walked over to Jesse, both turning around and starting to walk down the hallway. Jesse looked back to make sure the doctor was following, but was met with the sight of Ana staring back at him with the same look as before, and Fareeha planting a small kiss on the doctor’s cheek.

_ Oh _ , Jesse thought,  _ So THAT’s who Fareeha said she had met.  _ The doctor ran to catch up with them, and followed them down the rest of the hallway, and out of a side door of the building. Jesse quickly led the two to the car, and all three piled in. Before Lucio started the ignition, McCree turned around to face the doctor.

“Well, Miss Ex Machina, you’re the doctor Lucio and Sparrow’s brother was talkin’ about? You’ll be able to fix Sparrow up?” He narrowed his eyes, he could feel his big brother attitude acting up. Lucio turned towards him, then back to the doctor.

The doctor was taken aback, “Yes, I can fix him. My name is Angela Ziegler. You’re Jesse McCree, no?”

“Yep,” McCree whistled, “Why, the Amari’s tell ya all about me?”

“Fareeha talks about you a lot,” Angela said nonchalantly, “You two are close, right?”

“Mhm.” McCree affirmed with Lucio starting the car. 

The rest of the ride was driven in silence as storm clouds grew on the distance. It was around midnight now, and the rest of the city had began to slow down. As they drove back down the shoreline road, it began to softly rain. McCree was watching outside as they drove down, watching as the rain picked up speed when they drove. The waves in the bay were increasingly getting more tussled and rampant. 

As they drove, the rain softly pattering on the windshield, and soft jazz playing from the car’s stereo, McCree felt himself getting tired again. Very slowly, he dozed back off into a calm, deep sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

McCree woke up to find himself in a bed. At first, he panicked. He shot up from the sheets, frantically shifting around to find a light or his phone. When he found an unfamiliar lamp on the side of his bed, he quickly flipped it on and looked around. His heartbeat settled as he realized he was in the hostage’s apartment bedroom, but also grew upset when he realized it wasn’t his own. He got up slowly, realizing his day clothes were still on, and slipped out of them. The cool air hit his back like a knife, and he shakily exhaled. Someone was keeping this house like a meat freezer.

McCree walked over to the dresser, pulling out some clothing that Cyber had stolen from his own house. He pulled on the ratty t-shirt that Fareeha had given him from some concert, and tugged on a pair of grey sweatpants, the only casual pair that Cyber seemed to grab. He peaked at himself from a mirror across the room and saw how disheveled and unkempt he looked. He turned away, trying not to think about the current state he was in. 

Out of curiosity, McCree walked towards the door on the other side of the room. He wouldn’t doubt if they had locked it again, but he found the handle easy to open. Slowly, he pushed the door forward until it swung into the hallway. He stepped out carefully into the hallway, closing the door behind him. There was a soft blue light emanating from down the hallway; McCree was drawn to it. 

Step by step, moving in a way he was once taught wouldn’t make any noise, he walked into the living room space. He was surprised to find the black sheets stripped from the massive windows covering the wall on the opposite side, letting in a flood of moonlight. The blue light seemed to dance through the glass, landing softly on the modern furniture and decorations. McCree was surprised to see Cyber sitting underneath the window on a ledge, propped up by a couple cushions underneath him. He was staring outside, watching, even though it had to be extremely early in the morning. 

“Howdy,” McCree called out, softly. Cyber whipped around, obviously oblivious to anyone else joining him in the room. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, shifting backwards on the ledge to prop his back against the wall. The moonlight silhouetted his figure.

“It is a little concerning to fall asleep in a car one second, then when you wake up you’re in a bed in a place ya don’t recognize,” McCree joked, walking forward. He took a seat on one of the plush chairs facing the window, and looked outside. The city was behind them, so McCree got a brilliant view of the bay glimmering with the metropolitan lights. The sky seemed to brighten ever so slightly, hinting to the rise of the sun in only a little bit.

“Sorry about that, I brought you up here, apparently you were very hard to wake,” Cyber responded, turning back towards the window. McCree realized Cyber had returned his facemask, and found himself almost sad about it.

“Suprisin’”, McCree chuckled, settling into the plush chair, “I’m told I am a terrible sleeper, I must have really passed out.” Very slowly, it hit him that Cyber had  _ carried  _ him up the stairs. He felt his face flushing. Silence choked the room for a while, the sky getting lighter and lighter with every passing minute.

Finally, Cyber broke the silence, “You take kidnapping suprisingly well.” 

Jesse was taken aback, “What?”

“Well, I mean,” Cyber backtracked, “It’s not  _ kidnapping _ , per say. More like coincidentally stitching your wounds while getting information. Except, you haven’t once lashed out or attacked us. You’re helping us.” McCree looked down into his hands, he  _ was  _ helping them. For some reason, his brain didn’t have a reason why. 

“I… I don’t know why, to be honest,” McCree spoke candidly.

“That’s fine, we appreciate it regardless,” Cyber responded.

The two sat in silence again, watching the skyline as the sun started to peak over the hills in the distance. The suburban area on the other side of the bay was illuminated by pinks and oranges, and the entire sky resembled a Van Gogh painting, chaotic and colorful. McCree stared in amazement, he never got up this early to watch the sunrise, and regardless, the only view his apartment had was of the building across the way. McCree thought of his small apartment space, how stagnant it had stayed, and how it would probably be exactly how he left it when he returned. Then McCree thought of Blossom, that silly little pup he adopted after finding her behind the police building. He was very happy to know that his neighbors would be feeding her, thinking that McCree was working and not kidnapped. He missed her small body snoozing next to him, snoring ever so slightly. He also definitely missed car rides and coffee with Fareeha, the only person who stuck with him through thick and thin in his life. Jesse felt like he was romanticizing these ideas after not seeing them for months, but in truth, it had only been a few days. It’s funny what the mind does when routine is knocked out of order.

“-is Hanzo,” McCree realized Cyber had spoken as he was thinking.

“What?” McCree turned to the man across from him, who was now staring at him with a small look of curiosity.

“My name. It’s Hanzo,” he said again, “You might as well know. If Lucio told you his name, then I highly doubt you wouldn’t be able to find me as well.”

“Oh,” McCree looked at the man, putting name to face, “Ok. Yer probably right, but ya didn’t need to do that.” 

Hanzo brushed him off, “It is not a big deal, and anyways, you might as well know.”

McCree shifted in the cushion of his seat, “...Why do you wear that?”

“What?” Hanzo questioned, his eyebrows crinkling.

“Yer mask, yer face thing,” McCree gestured to the object covering his mouth.

“...Old habit,” was all he responded with. McCree nodded, settling back down in the chair. The sun was higher in the sky now, the pink tones diluting into blue. McCree heard a morning alarm go off somewhere in the house, but his attention was drawn more to Hanzo, who was reaching his hands up behind his head. Very slowly, Hanzo took off the mask covering his mouth, placing it next to himself.

McCree was trying his hardest not to let his mouth gape open, the image in front of him was spectacular. Hanzo was sitting on the ledge of the window, illuminated by the rich orange of the sun, softly smiling as he watched outside. McCree felt his heart leap out of his chest and into his throat. Before he could say anything, however, a door opened on the other side of the room. McCree swiveled to the noise, and saw a bloody figure standing in the doorframe.

The doctor was removing a pair of blood stained gloves, slipping them into a plastic baggie in her pocket, “I am in desperate need of a shower.” Hanzo got up and moved towards her.

“Is Genji all right? Were you able to stabilize him?” A hitch in Hanzo’s voice revealed a hint of anxiety.

“Yes, he will be fine,” Angela reassured, sighing, “He should actually be waking up in the next day or two. However, he cannot spring back into action right away. Keep him in bed for another week.”

“Week?” McCree questioned, a week was too long. 

“Yes, he was very critically injured, he needs rest,” The doctor explained, walking across the room to the hallway.

“Now hold on,” McCree stammered, “While I might be… not-too-keen on having vigilante fighting all willy-nilly in the city, this Reaper guy is destroying the city.”

“You think Sparrow will be able to bring him down?” Hanzo questioned, his eyes narrowing, “In his condition?”  
“No, I don’t want him to fight,” McCree explained, “I don’t ever want him to fight like he has been, in any situation. Ever. But, I cannot deny that he gives the city what it desperately needs.”

“What?” Hanzo asked as McCree stood from his chair.

“Hope.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Absolutely not.” Angela hissed. The four were sitting at a makeshift breakfast table in the makeshift kitchen. Lucio had made eggs and sausage, and they had all sat down for a quick breakfast before discussing what to do next. Apparently Dr. Ziegler already knew what they were thinking when they exclaimed that ‘one week wasn’t enough time’.

“Angela-” Hanzo began to say, but she cut him off with a harsh zip. 

“He hasn’t even woken up yet, and you want to throw him back out into the field?” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. 

“Who hasn’t woken up yet?” McCree swiveled to the unfamiliar voice, and he felt his jaw drop. Sparrow was standing in the doorway, his exposed skin blotchy and red from the previous night’s surgery. It was as if McCree had seen Beyonce walk into the room, but not really caring who Beyonce was, and Beyonce just had surgery that would’ve left anyone else in the hospital for weeks on end. Except, it was Beyonce, there was no way that  _ surgery  _ could stop her. McCree shoved the intrusive thought out of his head, stupid Beyonce. 

“Genj-” Both Lucio and Hanzo rose to their feet, relief washing over their faces, but Angela was quicker to the trigger.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” She screamed, “GET BACK INTO  BED !” She ran up to him, pushing him gently out of the room and back towards the real-kitchen-turned-ER. Hanzo and Lucio were both quick at the doctor’s heels. Once the room had cleared, McCree basked in the silence for just a moment. He then realized he had just been left to his own devices. As a kidnappee. 

He surveyed the room, which was not much different from the living room right next to him, large open windows greeting him with a pretty view of the horizon. The only door leading out of the room was the one that his kidnappers had gone through, and from there, McCree knew where the front door was. If he really wanted to, he could make a break for it.

So why wasn’t he?

His limbs felt stiff and locked into place, refusing to budge. McCree wanted to scream at himself to move, but he also really, really didn’t want to. Eventually, McCree was able to get himself up from the table. His mind was hazy, falling into autopilot, as he left the room and walked into the living space. He turned towards the front door, to the one exit from this mad house, but his feet didn’t walk in that direction. Instead he found himself at the door to the kitchen-turned-medical room. Slowly, he reached out his hand, and turned the door handle. 

He was greeted by the sight of Sparrow and Lucio having a very intimate, personal moment. Sparrow was back in bed, smiling weakly, while his boyfriend was sitting next to him, resting their foreheads together. McCree felt like he was intruding.

He turned away, and found Angela and Hanzo talking in the corner of the room. Their discussion was obviously heated, but they were speaking in hushed whispers. It was almost as if they were fighting in a silent movie, like the old westerns McCree used to watch on off days. God, he wished he had one of those right now, this entire week was “off”.

“McCree,” Hanzo looked up to the man in the doorway, then beckoned him over. McCree joined them, huddling into their conversation. Over Hanzo’s shoulder, McCree could see the couple still sharing their moment, and he returned his gave back to the two individuals in front of him.

“Genji is not to leave this building for a week,” Angela explained to Jesse, “I know the city is in danger, and that Sparrow could potentially stop him, but Genji is in no position to fight. He needs this time.”

“And as I have said many times before, he is needed more desperately than that.” Hanzo urged on, insistently, “You have to realize that Genji isn’t just a strong fighter, but also a symbol of hope.” Hanzo looked to Jesse for reassurance, who just responded with his face turning a couple fresh shades of red.

“Y-yeah, that’s what I said. But I don’t think he needs to fight to really show that though, he just needs to show he’s alive.” McCree stammered.

“Show that he’s alive so that Reaper thing can come back and almost kill him like last time?” Angela questioned. Her eyes were trained on the two men.

“I guess… not,” McCree agreed, “Then, what do we do? We need something to make these people feel safe, at least until the police finally work all this out.”

“We could…” Angela pondered, and idea formulating on her lips, “We could get another vigilante to help. Just to be there and support the city.”

“We don’t just have vigilantes in our back pockets to throw into the city, you know.” Hanzo shot back, “Genji is the only one remotely close to Metropolis.” Hanzo and Angela were shooting remarks back and forth between one another, but McCree had lost focus on their conversation. He remembered a conversation Fareeha had once with him, about other reported vigilantes in the state, but he just couldn’t remember what she said. When she had told him, he was probably dozing off, or purposefully only half-listening to the conversation due to his disinterest. Regardless, he was kicking himself over the failed opportunity.

“-where are we just going to find another fully-armed vigilante to help us?” Hanzo’s voice returned to McCree’s focus.

“I- I may know a person who can help us find one,” McCree spoke up, realizing his way to fix this, “Fareeha is almost obsessed with the vigilantes in the area, she might have an idea of who to look for.”

Hanzo perked up, and Angela leaned inwards. McCree pulled out his phone, and flipped to his best friend’s contact. He clicked the call button, and raised the phone to his ear, waiting as the static buzzed on the other side. He kept waiting, but no voice greeted him on the other side. Instead, he was met with the voicemail box, and he promptly closed the call window. He instead went into the text box and shot off a quick “Call me soon?”. Before he close his phone, his eyes glanced back over to the call button.

He hit the button again and called a different number, one he knew would pick up. He waited as the two others next to him watched in silence. McCree let out a soft sigh when the dial stopped and he receiver clicked. 

“Ana, hi, can we-”

“MCCREE!” Jesse held the receiver away from his ear from the sudden yelling, “WHY HAVE YOU NOT PICKED UP YOUR PHONE, GODDAMNIT!”

“What?” McCree questioned, returning the phone to his ear. He could swear he heard Hanzo chuckle.

“I have been calling your home phone over and over and over again for the past three hours! Something happened, and you were up to no good last night, but  _ Jesse, where are you? _ .” The strain in the older woman’s voice made McCree dry swallow.

“Ana, hold on, what happened?” McCree could feel his voice become shaky. He raised his hand to the doctor and Hanzo, excusing himself. He beelined for the door, just making in out of the room in time to hear Ana speak again.

“The office… it was attacked. A lot of officers were injured severely, no fatalities. Fareeha was- _ god _ -she got hit by a pillar coming down. She’s in ICU right now.” Ana was slowly choking up over the line, and McCree’s breath hitched. They were attacked? That early in the morning? How long after he had left?

“Let me come down there, I’ll be at general in twenty minutes,” Jesse said into the receiver. The only response he got was a small, weepy “ok”. He walked back into the room, where the lovebirds on the other side had finally separated, and the doctor and Hanzo looked at him with confusion.

“I… have to go,” McCree said impatiently, “I can get the information you need, but I need to go right now.”

“I’ll get my car,” Lucio walked forward, but McCree stopped him.

“I think I need to go alone, this is a family matter,” He said matter-of-factly. 

“Did… did something happen to Ana?” Jesse looked at the doctor, who’s face was slowly growing more panicked. 

“I-” Jesse realized he didn’t have the exact words to tell the doctor what had happened, “No, Ana is fine. Fareeha was… hurt. I’m going to go check up on her.”

“Hurt? How?” panic raised in Angela’s voice, but McCree was already turning to leave. Before he could storm back out the door, he felt a rough latch onto his arm.

“No, Jesse, you don’t even have a car-” He heard Hanzo say behind him, but McCree ripped free.

“Listen, I’ll get you your damn info, but this is important! I’ll get a cab, I’ll walk for god’s sake, but I need to go  _ alone _ .” He felt the grip on his arm let up. There was a quick moment of silence, before Hanzo spoke up once again.

“You know where to find us when you do get the info,” Hanzo stated, but McCree could sense something in his voice. He couldn’t place it, until the door behind him had closed. Hanzo sounded unsure, as if McCree was running off, ignoring the help he had promised. 

Sure, he was running off, but he wasn’t ignoring anyone. His conscious would make sure of that. He walked towards the door, confident in his steps, until he wasn’t. His body stopped without him thinking, and he turned back towards the kitchen door. Sure, he barely knew these people and  _ hell,  _ he had hated all that they stood for, but he still ached with guilt. He knew something wasn’t right about this, suddenly disconnecting from these individuals he had agreed to help. Then again, he felt like a big, red flag was being waved in the back of his mind, screaming “Stockholm Syndrome”.

So instead, he stood there, and he thought. He thought long and hard about why he was helping these people, since he had absolutely nothing to gain. He hated the vigilantes, hated the people who helped them to ruin the city, and he definitely did not think affectionately for kidnappers. Then he looked at the people he was helping, a nurse who was probably hopelessly in love and blinded by a man trying to kill himself heroically, a brother who indulged those practices and held up a mysterious persona, and a doctor-ex-machina who seemed to know her way pretty good around advanced biotechnology. None of these individuals he would trust on his own, so why was he now?

Finally, he thought about where he was, and what he already did. He increased his suspension by who-knows-how-long, got caught in an apartment that he could easily be murdered in, and was pulled into a cause he couldn’t even stand for. What in the hell was he staying for? As his mind kept asking the same question, McCree realized there had been a set of eyes watching him.

He turned around, and saw Hanzo standing outside the surgery room. He was leaning on the door, eyes transfixed on McCree.

“I thought you were leaving,” He asked, “Did you realize you need a ride? That cabs don’t come all the way out here anymore?” McCree looked at the man staring at him, and he realized there was at least one reason why he was staying here. Those burning eyes he had awoken to before, and the eyes that got caught in the sunrise by the window. It was such a small detail, such pretty eyes, but McCree reckoned that was a good enough reason to help for now. He didn’t want to let those eyes go.

“Nah, I just realized that maybe, I do want some company.” McCree smiled sadly as Hanzo walked forward, passing him, and grabbing a ring of keys from his pocket. As they left the building, the thought of the very pretty eyes still remained in McCree’s head.


	11. Chapter 11

Hanzo’s truck was just as loud as McCree thought it would be when he first saw it in the garage. He remembered having a pickup truck similar to this one when he was a teen, and the car’s fatal demise when it got hit in a parked spot near his summer job. Sadly, McCree traced his hand over the dashboard, thinking of what could’ve been. Hanzo drove away in the massive car, zig-zagging his way to General Hospital. As they drove through the city, McCree couldn’t help but notice the disturbing mood the city held.

Not as many people were out on the streets than usual, and a lot of shops and vendors were closed, regardless of it being a weekday. As the car drove to the hospital, they passed by the park where the whole situation had started. Now the park had been completely closed off, barriers and police tape wrapping around the entire expanse, and he could even spot a few officers inside wearing tactical gear. 

Soon, the truck pulled up to the hospital, and McCree practically flung himself out of the vehicle. Hanzo followed him on his heels as they ran through the automatic doors into the main waiting room. There were crowds of people inside, some families crying and mourning, and others sitting with a thousand-yard stare as they waited for the news. It took McCree a couple minutes of looking over shoulders and getting on his toes to find Ana in the corner of the room, standing against a wall. He briskly walked over to her, and without saying a word, he took her into his arms.

Almost on cue, Ana began to sniff and sob quietly into his chest. Hanzo watched silently as the two comforted each other for what seemed like an eternity.

“She woke up a while ago,” Ana was finally able to sniffle out, “But the doctors had to medically put her back under, they need to do some surgery or something- I don’t know I-” She was breaking up again, and McCree just held her tighter. There had been so many times when Ana had comforted McCree like this, it almost felt both natural and unnatural for him to do the same. They waited like this for a while, but neither really knew for how much time exactly. McCree seemed to forget Hanzo was even there, until Hanzo tapped on his shoulder.

“That doctor just told me to tell you, she woke up again,” He said softly to the two, pointing at a man in a lab coat waiting by the hallway entrance. Slowly, the two moved together, Hanzo following, and walked with the man down the hallway.

“She’s more stable now, her back is still injured though, and we will need to keep an eye on her. Don’t let her fall asleep, she’s also had a concussion in the injury.” He explained, opening a door to another hallway. In silence, the four moved through the building, watching as doctors rushed past them and family members waited outside of rooms. The anxiety that permeated from the halls was suffocating. The doctor reached a room at the very end of the hall and beckoned to the three visitors, opening the door to the room. McCree thanked him wordlessly and walked in, Ana following behind. Hanzo stayed outside.

McCree was immediately struck by the scent of sterilization; it was bad in the hallways, but it reeked in here. He saw a figure in the bed in front of him, but could barely make out that it was Fareeha. Her leg had been raised with a cast, metal rods sticking out of painful places, and her head was diligently bandaged, covering most of her hair. She turned her head slowly to the side, recognizing the two of them, and smiled softly.

“Hey mom, Jesse,” She said, her voice crackling with strain. Her mom immediately rushed over, sitting next to her daughter and stroking her hand. Jesse walked on the opposite side, smiling as he saw his best friend’s face. 

“Hey ‘reeha,” He said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder, “How ya holdin’ up?”

“Better than earlier, that’s for sure,” She joked, “Officially high on sedatives, take me away, officers.” That elicited a small laugh from McCree, he was happy to see his friend still keeping up the positive attitude. 

“I can’t stay long,” McCree explained, “I wanted to make sure you’re ok, and ask you a question, but I’m-” He looked out the window of the room to Hanzo standing outside, “I’m helping someone right now with something urgent, and it fuckin sucks, but I can’t stiff them.”

“Hahaa,” Fareeha chuckled, “ _ Stiffed _ . But yeah sure, it’s ok. What’s up?”

McCree got very low to her ear so only she could hear, but he doubted Ana was paying any attention to him anyways, “Who is the closest known vigilante who you have contact with?”

Fareeha sighed, “Still on the case, huh? Grab my phone from my bag, I have a contact you can use.” McCree bent down to the small backpack laid next to the dresser and fished around inside for her phone. He opened the device for Fareeha, and placed it towards her hand. She pressed around until she landed on a contact and held the phone back to McCree. He quickly sent the info to himself and returned the phone to her bag.

“Y’sure this is a number that they’ll use?” Jesse asked. He was shocked when Ana turned to him to respond.

“Yes, if Fareeha gave you the number I am thinking of, than yes. He won’t let you down,” Ana explained, resting her other hand back on her daughter’s shoulder. McCree looked at both of them intensely, nodding. He rose to his feet, bent down to give a soft kiss to his friend’s forehead, and began walking towards the door. The gesture was small, but it was a common comfort between the two. He exited the room, softly closing the door behind him, and returning to Hanzo. 

McCree smiled with a tired look in his eyes, “We got a guy.”

* * *

 

The phone rang for what seemed like hours. McCree and Hanzo had driven back to the apartment building, but were waiting outside near the bay, leaning on the hood of the truck. Hanzo looked impatiently at the phone as it rang a fifth time, and McCree was just about to hang up, until the receiver clicked. The two waited in silence for an indication of someone picking up, until they heard a rough voice over the speaker phone.

“Who are you and how did you get this number.”

“My name-” McCree paused, “Is Jesse McCree. I’m good friends of the Amari's, and we are in need of desperate help. They recommended me to you.”

“...McCree?” The voice asked.

“Yeah..?” McCree answered, looking puzzled at the receiver. Hanzo just eyed McCree warily. 

“It’s… It’s Jack. Gabe’s husband. We met a couple times,” McCree was taken aback by the voice. He remembered him, one night Jesse had come over to Gabe’s home as a rookie, and had dinner with the two men. He also remembered the blond man sitting next to the casket, staring headlong into the shadows as it was lowered. He had barely knew him personally, but Gabriel was always talking about him as they patrolled. Non-stop chatter about the "best husband in the world".

“Jack, I… Wow. Fareeha told me this was the number of a vigilante, she must have been delusional,” McCree placed his hand onto his face, sucking in harshly. It was not fun reopening old wounds.

“No, Fareeha was right,” Jack stated, McCree looked back at the receiver, “I do freelancer work occasionally, night clubs and such, maybe a bigger fish if I feel up to it.”

McCree sighed, what life had Jack turned to after the incident? He remembered Gabe talking up Jack’s speaking skills and public service commitment, he had his life on track to be a mayor if he wanted to. Although now it was apparently clear that wasn’t the case, the tired tone in his voice said millions.

“Well then,” Hanzo spoke up, “We must ask you for your help, you may have seen on the news about the recent attacks in Metropolis.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty much everywhere now. And can I ask who you are? I didn’t realize there was another person on the line,” Jack said annoyedly.

“My name is Cyber, I work very closely with the vigilante Sparrow, and we both need your help. Sparrow is still very injured, and the city is in grave danger of being attacked again-”

“Let me stop you there, I won’t do it,” Jack explained, “I already exposed myself too much when it came to bringing down Doomfist, the last thing I need is a celebrity status.”

“Doomfist?” McCree questioned, thinking back to the case in Moorbrooke, “Wait, does that mean you were Soldier Seventy-Si-”

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t.” Jack cut off, “I can’t return to that city, and I definitely can’t beat whatever monster is ravaging the streets.”

“We’re not asking you to beat the Reaper, we are asking you only to show the city that it is supported.” Hanzo grew agitated.

“How am I supposed to do that without fighting the damn guy?” Jack raised his voice, “Listen, while I’d love to help those people, I can’t. So you’ll have to take no.”

“But we can’t do this without a figure for the people to look up to!” Jesse exclaimed, “The people are losing hope, and it grows worse every single day.”

“Then why don’t you two play dress up and stop dragging in old pals to save the day?” Jack spat, and then hung up the phone. The two men sat in silence, staring at the device. McCree immediately felt guilty, he had clearly reopened some very deep wounds within the man.

“We better just leave him alone, he won’t be of any help like that-” McCree started, but stopped as Hanzo swiveled to look at him.

“He’s right.” Hanzo said, his eyes sparking to life.

“What?” McCree asked, although he had a feeling he already knew what Hanzo was about to suggest.

“What if _we_ become what the city needs?”


	12. Chapter 12

McCree felt dumb, shuffling through the clothes Hanzo had brought him on the floor. He needed to make himself as disguised as possible with what he had, and that wasn’t a lot. He eventually settled on blacks and grays, a pair of black, slick pants and a dark grey long-sleeve that covered his neck tightly. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing his image cut clearly through the clothing. He sighed, realizing he wasn’t covered enough, and some schmuck on the internet could probably piece two and two together. McCree eyed the bed where the black bedsheets had been tousled and used, a thought growing in his mind. He walked over to the main sheet and pulled it off. He folded it a couple times, making it the width of a very large scarf, and he wrapped it around his body. The downy material actually settled against his body, broadening his shoulders and making his body type look different. He sighed with content, he felt like he’d look stupid to others, but at least it masked him. He walked out of the room in his garb, walking into the living room where Angela and Lucio were waiting. 

Angela didn’t even regard him, she was staring out the window with a blank expression. She had called Ana to figure out what happened to her girlfriend, and it was obviously bothering her. McCree walked over and sat with Lucio, who was typing away at his phone. They waited in silence, until Hanzo returned fully dressed in a vigilante uniform.

“Wow,” McCree gasped, “Y’all just have those lying around?” The orange, tight suit rippled around the smaller man’s pecs and highlighted his definitive traits. His mouth was covered again, with the grey material tucked into the neck wrap. He had also tied up his hair higher than usual, substituting a hair tie with a short, orange ribbon. He looked like he could kick McCree’s ass, and McCree was totally ok with that. 

“No, but we had my suit made alongside Genji’s just in case,” Hanzo explained, rubbing his arm, “Never thought I’d use it.”

“Well, everything has its use at one point,” Lucio pointed out, “and from what I’ve gathered, there may be an event coming up that the Reaper will strike at.”

“Which is?” McCree turned to the man next to him.

“A banquet of some kind for the city’s most wealthy and prestigious. Big members like the mayor and council members will be there.” Lucio explained, showing McCree his phone with the event, “A chance to knock out all the elite at once.”

“Then we should go there to oversee, when is it?” Hanzo moved closer, taking a seat across from them.

“Tonight at eight downtown. At some fancy restaurant in the Italian district.” Lucio explained. 

“This is stupid.” The room turned to Angela, who had finally chirped in, “You’ll stake it out until the Reaper gets there, then what? You’ll attack?”

“That is the plan,” Hanzo nodded, “I have my bow and arrows from back in the day that I can use, and Jesse can use whatever weapon he wants from the arsenal.” Jesse nodded, they both agreed he was a good enough shot to choose whatever he wanted, and still effectively take down the Reaper. 

“He took down your brother and several officers,” Angela grew frustrated, “How in the world are only you two supposed to beat him?”

Hanzo didn’t skip a beat, “We’re not. We are just there to scare him off, and to show that there are still people in this city who want to make things better. We just need to stall until Genji is ready.”

Angela sighed, putting her fingers up to the bridge of her nose and pinching, “Whatever, just don’t die. I won’t be able to magically fly through the sky to be able to patch you up if you get shot.”

Hanzo nodded, gesturing to McCree to follow him. They both rose and walked to the front door, leaving once again. McCree looked back to see Lucio looking at them with hope in his eyes, while Angela just looked worried and tired. He smiled to them, and followed Hanzo out of the doorway. They walked down the hallway to another door, where Hanzo pulled out another key and unlocked it. They walked into another apartment, this one covered ceiling to floor in black tarp. In the center, there was a table sprawled with weapons ranging from pistols to actual ninja swords. McCree walked forward, examining the guns before him. He settled on a pistol that was very similar to the one he used when he would go to the shooting range with Gabe. It was actually a very pretty gun, bright metal reflecting his face back at him and held together by pieces of ivory casing. McCree slipped it to his belt, and looked to Hanzo. He was settling on a compound bow and a sheath of arrows. The arrows themselves looked high-tech, some with LEDs flashing on the side, and others having metal feathers instead of synthetic. McCree strode out of the armory with Hanzo, who locked the door behind them. They both walked back down to the garage and piled into the truck.  After getting situated, Hanzo started the ignition, and they drove off towards downtown.

The sun was already beginning to set upon the horizon when McCree realized he was becoming the thing he so desperately despised: a vigilante. 


	13. Chapter 13

They had parked a block away from the actual building, hiding the truck behind some alleyway in an unmarked parking spot. Hanzo didn’t seem to care that the space probably didn't even exist, a parking ticket was definetly the last thing on his mind. The two filed out of the truck, not having said a word since they left the apartment, and walked together down the alleyway. Before making it to the street, Hanzo stopped McCree.

“Let’s try and get up on one of these roofs, we can scope out from there easier.” Hanzo pointed to the roofs above them, at least twelve stories high. 

“Yeah, sure,” McCree agreed, his hand laying cautiously on his pistol. Hanzo walked over to a fire escape off one of the buildings, and took his bow off from his back. He raised it in front of him, drawing an arrow from his sheath, and notching it into place. He aimed upwards towards a latch on the stairs and fired, the arrow whizzed into the metal buckle and broke it. The stairs responded by cluttering down and sliding to his feet. With a satisfied grin, Hanzo climbed the stairs.

“I’m real happy you know how to use that thing,” McCree responded, following the man up the stairs. Slowly, the two climbed all twelve flights of stairs to the very top, and propped themselves on the rooftop of the building. This was in no means the tallest building in town, but it was tall enough to still hover over the building that Reaper was bound to strike. The duo moved over to the ledge, where they could see the inconspicuous italian restaurant below them. Hanzo steadied himself on a ledge and drew an arrow. He stayed in that position, watching carefully like a hawk for any false movements.

McCree looked down at his wrists, the event would be starting in a half an hour. Before then, however, guests had started to arrive. A couple very fancy cars drove up to the valet service, but once in awhile, a chauffeured car would pull up and drop off some very fancy looking individuals. McCree kept rescanning the area, looking for any unusual signs of movement, but nothing was happening. As the night drew on, McCree’s paranoia began to increase. He kept thinking he saw flickers of movement in the corner of his eye, always watching but never seeing anything. 

Except, his constant scanning was cut off by the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air. McCree flipped on his partner, looking for an answer, but Hanzo’s eyes were trained below. McCree looked again, and sure enough, the arrow that Hanzo had landed was next to something very odd. In the alleyway besides the restaurant, there was a bike. It looked bulky and sleek, and was pressed up against the wall of the building next to it. It was out of place.

“Do you think-” but before McCree could finish, there were sounds of screams resonating from below him. He looked back towards the building, and saw the doors fly open. People came running, dressed in formal clothing and some still holding their belongings close to their chest. Some ran down the street, while others just crossed it and entered the building that the duo was surveying from.

Hanzo was quick to action, springing behind them and practically throwing himself down the fire escape. McCree was slow to follow, but he went along anyways. He reached the bottom of the steps with a ‘thunk’, and barely saw Hanzo run out from the alleyway towards the restaurant. McCree chased behind, quickly turning the corner, only to be confronted by a vicious sight. He hadn’t realized from before, but the individuals running from the building had been possibly injured, and there were drips of blood spattering the concrete. The more horrifying part was what stood in front of the restaurant. The reaper was holding a man by the scruff of his neck, holding him up for the world to see. In his other hand was a shotgun, which he was slowly raising to the captured man’s head. 

Before he could, Hanzo shot an arrow out at his hand, which simply bounced off the man’s skin. Hanzo’s posture changed, and he stepped back. What kind of material could deflect that amount of sharp force? However, he shook the thought away and persisted, drawing another arrow. This time he was aiming for the Reaper’s face, but missed by just a mark.

The monster, as McCree could only describe, grunted, and dropped the man beside him. He seemed to float forward, his free hand growing white claws, speckled with blood. As he moved towards Hanzo, the archer notched another arrow and took aim. Before Hanzo could shoot, a loud explosion shook him from his feet. The Reaper seemed to chuckle as a patch of ground near Hanzo seemed to blow up inconspicuously. He turned back to the man in question, raising his shotgun once again and taking aim. This time, it was McCree’s turn to strike.

Without thinking, McCree lunged forward, sprinting ahead at a rapid pace, and barreled into the reaper. Jesse, having performed dozens of takedowns, was able to shove the Reaper’s weapon away from them. He tried to restrain the man below him, but the Reaper was unnaturally strong. Jesse was flipped off his back, falling away from the man in a heap. McCree looked back up at the masked figure to see another arrow come whizzing by, striking him in the back. The arrow was deflected as well, but the monster growled with the painful spike.

“You’ll pay for that,” Jesse could swear he heard him talk. The Reaper flipped around with a breakneck pace, surging forward towards Hanzo, who dodged past him, sending his elbow into the wraith’s side. The beast howled, his movements getting sloppy and sloppier. Hanzo ran back away from the beast, notching another arrow, but when the Reaper turned around again, Jesse had pulled out the pistol.

In one shot, Jesse had shot the monster right between the eyes, an impressive aim he wouldn’t have regularly in a shooting range. Hanzo stood their, mouth agape, as the beast curled back from the force of the bullet. However, to the duo’s dismay, the Reaper curled back, the bullet spinning on his mask like a bullet trying to break through ice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” McCree yelled, throwing his hands up. The Reaper was already moving forwards again, this time towards McCree. Jesse put his gun up again, aiming like he did before, but before he could pull the trigger, a painful crack resonated through the air.

McCree looked towards the sound, right in front of the Reaper, and he saw the tiny crack the bullet had made in his mask. The shot was still spinning into his mask, a crazy act of physics that shouldn’t be possible, but it was burrowing into the mask. The Reaper had stopped, more held up by the bullet currently whirring through his protective shield. As the bullet kept spinning, the crack got wider. Once the crack had traveled down from the top of his head to his chin, the bullet fell from its place, having lost all momentum. McCree watched as the Reaper recomposed himself, his shoulders rising once again, and began to travel towards McCree. 

Jesse could hear the sirens going off in the distance, he knew help was coming, but this was it for him. He either needed to act or duck, but his body didn’t seem to be moving. In the split decision of a nanosecond, Jesse raised the gun again and shot the Reaper in the same spot. The monster howled, putting his hands up to his face as the mask shattered and fell. Only the one half that had grown weak fell off, but McCree caught something underneath that he didn’t mean to see, a human face.

Sure, this guy was definitely human, not some weird alien monster as he had been previously alluding to, but it stuck McCree as unreal when he saw the man’s human skin underneath. 

Before the police got on scene, the Reaper looked around, half his face covered by his clawed hand. He grunted, threw his shotgun down, and reached to his belt. He grabbed a small black device, raised it to his head, and slammed it into the ground. Suddenly, the space was filled with an inky black smoke, and McCree was trying his hardest not to cough from it. He fumbled, trying to orient himself in the middle of the street, but stopped when he made out a figure in the smoke.

He tried to focus on it, but when he realized it was walking towards him, he fell to the ground in fear. As the figure got closer, McCree realized it was the Reaper, and he began to shuffle away from him. Before he could, the man swooped down on him, becoming threateningly close. 

He was still covering his left eye, but McCree still felt a stinging sense of Deja-vu when he looked at the pale, white mask. White like bone, curious like an owl. Before he could place where he had seen it before, the Reaper’s hand began to move away from his face. McCree swallowed as he watched his attacker reveal himself, and lost all thought when he saw his face.

The dog-tags under McCree’s shirt were suddenly burning, making his lungs catch on fire and ache against the throb of pain. He felt his mind slipping away and unraveling, unable to fully comprehend who was standing in front of him.

It’s hard to do much of anything when a ghost is staring at you.

“Gabe?” Jesse whimpered, his voice cracking.

“No,” an unfamiliar voice answered, “Gabe died a long time ago when a vigilante dropped a building on him.” McCree was suddenly filled with dread and confusion and pain and sadness, until the Reaper rose again. He frowned, turned around, and disappeared back into the smoke.

And that was when McCree realized he was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IS A REALLY COOL EXAMPLE OF THAT BULLET ON ICE THING: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foZlciP6gUQ


	14. Chapter 14

They had escaped before the police arrived. Hanzo helped McCree up, the tiny man held a considerable amount of strength. They straggled back to their car, barely paying any attention to the numerous citizens running from down the alleyway in the opposite direction. Hanzo helped McCree up into the passenger seat and buckled him in. He then moved over to his own seat and got into the car. Before he could start the ignition, McCree spoke up.

“I’m done.” He spoke so quietly, Hanzo almost missed it.

“What?” Hanzo turned to McCree, a puzzled look in his eyes.

“I- I don’t think I could ever do that again,” McCree explained, “That was- I don’t-”

“Don’t explain yourself,” Hanzo reassured, “You won’t ever have to, we did our jobs, and now we hope that the Reaper disappears for a while as Genji regains his strength.” McCree sighed, his mind still racing with what he had seen, and who was attacking him. One idea kept ringing through his head, they had never found the body of his partner.

“I think I need to sleep,” McCree commented as Hanzo pulled away and drove down the alley.

“Don’t we all,” Hanzo responded.

* * *

 

McCree didn’t dream when he fell asleep that night. It was a horrifying kind of peaceful.

* * *

 

McCree had awoke to someone sitting on his bed next to him. He slowly opened his eyes, still stinging from the smoke from the night. He looked up to see Hanzo staring at him, his eyes glazed over with worry, but also relief. McCree could only respond with a small smile.

“We made the front page,” Hanzo explained, pulling out the daily times from the morning. On the cover, McCree saw a stunning picture of Hanzo aiming his bow at the Reaper, and himself in the background with his hand on the pistol. The headline read: Mystery Man and Masked Vigilante Rise Against Reaper; A New Hope. Jesse read the first bits of the article, but it was very vague and general, most likely due to the hidden identities of himself and Hanzo. 

“Do you think this will be enough?” McCree asked, looking back up at his partner. 

“We can only hope,” Hanzo replied, standing, “And we got you a ride back to your apartment later, Angela was able to get Ana to come out here and get you.”

“You didn’t tell her-” McCree started, worried that the location of Sparrow would be given away in this simple act.

“She has no clue that either of you worked for us,” Hanzo reassured, “But it doesn’t matter anyways, you are allowed to keep up your half of the deal and tell the police our real identities.” That stuck McCree, he had forgotten about their deal entirely. He now had the location of the Sparrow, his real name, his associates, a general idea of his arsenal, and more. He could be reinstated simply for half that information, if he was lucky. However, there was one thing preventing him.

“Nah,” McCree waved his hand nonchalantly, “I don’t think that information would do us any good anyways, for example, if some nutjob in the station who really hated vigilantes got their hands on it. I don’t think anyone in that situation would be ok.” McCree watched as Hanzo’s face turned into a state of disbelief. 

“Are you sure?” Hanzo prodded, but McCree nodded his head. Hanzo watched him closely, but backed off, “Ok then.”

Hanzo helped McCree pack his stuff, the clothes he had stolen fit comfortably into one of Genji’s old school bags they had lying around. McCree slung the backpack onto his shoulder, and tossed the black sheet he had used the night before back on the bed. 

Out in the living room, Lucio was waiting for him, but so was Sparrow. They were both sitting on the couch, Genji was dressed in extremely comfortable clothes, and was leaning into his boyfriend, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Thank you,” whispered Lucio, a tone of pure genuinity radiating in it. McCree nodded, and continued to walk to the front door. Hanzo led him out of the apartment, but instead of going through the garage, they exited through the building’s front doors. McCree took a deep breath of fresh air when they exited the building, the smell of the bay lingering in the area. He turned to Hanzo, who was waiting next to him, and nudged him.

“But honestly though, how bad at superhero-ing must we be to perform like that last night.” McCree joked, eliciting a small laugh from his smaller counterpart. 

“You weren’t too bad, you’re the one who actually landed a shot on him.”

“Yeah, but yer aim is definitely better. I wouldn’t have been able to hit that metal latch if it was right in front of me.” This made Hanzo chuckle again. McCree looked down to find Hanzo staring back at him. His eyes were laughing too.

“Are you sure,” Hanzo started, “that you don’t want to tell them? Give them the information?”

“I’m pretty sure. After all, I did seem to join the lot of y’all after that act last night,” McCree responded.

“Is there anything else I could repay you with? I don’t feel right letting you leave without repaying you in some way.”

McCree looked into the other man’s eyes, thinking very carefully about what he should say. He had just gone on an escapade that would last him a lifetime, and honestly changed how he perceived the vigilantes in general. There wasn’t anything he really needed, but he realized, there was something that he wanted.

“How about a date? With this suspension, I seem to have a lot of time on my hands anyways.” McCree said with his charming smile laid out on his face. Hanzo immediately looked taken aback, as if it were the last thing to come out of McCree’s mouth, but he mellowed back down.

A smile grew across the smaller man’s face, “Why not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME: Let me explain. I wrote this fic with the initial intention of having it end like this, abruptly and sweet. There are so many things in this world that we try to understand or learn, but in the end in never works out, or you lose interest. In this case. McCree had lost all want of helping the city on his own, it just wasn't his lifestyle. His story in this crazy dynamic of vigilantes ends with his word, that he is done. But I also want the takeaway here to be that people may leave things early and never pursue them, take a sport you played in your childhood for instance, but they take skills and relationships away from them. McCree was never going to fit into this vigilante mold, he found his work as a collective to be much more satisfying, but from it he was able to learn why these vigilantes exist, and why there will always need to be a balance in the world of lawful good and chaotic good. Not only that, but he got a sweet date out of it ;).
> 
> As a final note, I want to thank the people I thanked before one last time. Dee, your ability to keep up the hustle still amazes me, and I hope you go on to conduct more amazing Big Bangs in the future. Rere, thank you so much again for making that art for me, I literally could not have asked for more. 
> 
> Finally, thank you all for reading! I have always been inspired to write by my readers, you all keep me going, and I cannot express how much I appreciate that.


End file.
